Sunday, despite my horrible cold, I dragged myself to the monthly COFEA swap. Along with my cough and buckets of snot, this is what I brought.
Here is a handful of the many goodies I brought back.
I'm mostly following the wintersowing method this year, starting my solanaceae family in makeshift greenhouses, but the eggplants and peppers are also on heat mats on the patio just until they sprout. Then they'll go out and face the elements to join the tomatoes, hopefully growing into some fecund buggers. The winners in the race to sprout are Linnie's Oxheart, Guernsey Island Pink Blush, and Not Wes.
Not only am I dreaming of a head-cold-less life in which I can once again regain all of my five senses, I'm beginning to dream of summer tomatoes. I imagine how they'll feel, still sun warmed and heavy, in my hands as I harvest. Though my nose is on the fritz, I can almost smell the sharp green scent of tomato plants, staining my skin as I brush against them in the summer garden. I can see many colored tight tomato skins filling the produce drawers in my kitchen. And the salsa, the bruschetta, the salads, the soups, all of it I can almost taste.
Oh tomato, it is you, you irresistable seductress, that turns so many a food lover into a gardener. Our stories may not be original, but they're no less true. And now, through the winter, I'm enjoying and sharing the citrus and greens, but a whole chunk of me is just biding my time.
Tomato, I'm waiting for you.